


Honor

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Getting Together, Growing Up, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Mentioned and Implied Some Form of Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Rejection, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, but nothing happens until much later, the story starts when Kili is very young
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 08:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15360402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: Everyone said Thorin would bring his family honor and he had believed them. That was until he discovered that his soulmate was his sister's son.





	Honor

**Author's Note:**

> I browsed around ao3 reading fics from fandoms I’ve never even watched and look what I came up with. I usually avoid it, but I became curious about the idea of Thorin having raise Kili while knowing they’re soulmates or whatever. The soulmate mark thing is inspired by an anime/manga I was once into. I wonder if it’s still going. 
> 
> Caution 1: a little description of a form of self-harm. Caution 2: This was written while my brain was leaking out of my nose. Comprehensiveness is questionable. Caution 3: I edited it while still recovering from vertigo. Having vertigo every time you’re a little bit tired? Not fun. Absolutely not recommended. Avoid at all costs.
> 
> Um, enjoy?

There was a time Thorin was proud of the word that marked his chest. Honor, it announced, an unmistakable sign of future greatness. His grandfather was so proud of him, not a day old and carrying such heavy word, such heavy expectation on his tiny shoulders. He raised Thorin to bring wealth and power to their family and when he passed, Thorin’s father continued the lessons. Thorin fumbled with some skills and faltered a few times, hindered by teenage rebellion. However, no one, not even Thorin, even once doubted his ability to bring the coveted glory to his old family. The word one was born with was never random and always a reflection of potential, of inner trait no matter how hidden. Thorin had honor within him and he would one day bring it to those around him.

Once in a while, he wondered, tracing the neatly carven word as he stood in front of a mirror, thinking about the other person somewhere on this vast earth that shared the word with him. It was easily hidden, reaching just under his collarbones. He would lie if he said he had never looked or harbored some hope that certain people were the one he was to love. It crossed his mind to travel to look for them, but the idea of putting so much effort just to find someone who was supposed to be his, to exist for him and only him, was too silly and unrealistic. Instead, he stayed near his family, paying attention to his lessons, failing and learning, growing and changing. If loneliness and longing clawed at him in moments of weakness in the darkness and stillness of his room, he never mentioned it to anyone.

Thorin was honor, Frerin was freedom, and Dis was passion. No one questioned Frerin when he defied the restraints of family expectations and chose a path their conservative relatives frowned upon. He travelled extensively, learned too many skills to count, loved too many people to keep up with. He hadn’t found the one for him, but no one expected him to for a long while, knowing that whoever the person was, they shared his craving to see and experience everything the world had to offer. Dis come down to dinner one night and announced she was pregnant. At only sixteen, she declared herself in love with a boy who didn’t even share her word and married him regardless of her family’s disapproval. Thorin watched with a mixture of admiration and censure as she strike out the word on her arm and carved out the boy’s word on her unblemished palm. No one but the couple was truly happy with the arrangement, but Dis was passion. How was she supposed to deny what her heart wanted?

Fili was born months later to great joy and celebration. The word ‘loyalty’ curled around his tiny wrist, kissed hundreds of times by doting parents and grandparents. There was promise in loyalty—goodness and greatness in the making. Thorin decided right there and then that Fili would be his successor because with his commitment to his family, he knew his chance of finding a spouse was hardly existent. Lovers briefly stayed in his life, but he lacked his sister’s courage to dismiss the word he was born with and mark himself with a new one. A future of solitude was not something someone his age with his privileges commonly chose, but Thorin had accepted that bringing honor would come at a cost.

When Dis announced his second pregnancy a year later, something had shifted. What had been warm was now heated. She didn’t cry, but she snarled and snapped. There was no husband beside her when she delivered the baby, only a patient mother while her father and brothers waited outside in anxiety. Still, there was no regret in her eyes, only courage and determination, and Thorin was so proud of her, even though he disliked her hasty decisions. Much later, he walked into her room with a weary smile, concerned for her future and hopeful for the child’s. Dis looked at him strangely when he was handed the fragile baby, pink and soft in a cocoon of white, invoking deep affection and promises for happiness and safety. Thorin smiled as he kissed Kili’s forehead, careful not to scratch his tender skin with his stubbles. Quietly, he promised the baby the world, as well as whatever his father wouldn’t give but Thorin could offer. That was when the blanket slipped down, revealing light scratches below the baby’s collarbones: the word ‘honor’ that marked the one to whom he shouldn’t belong.

* * *

Thorin couldn’t turn Dis and her infant sons away, although he couldn’t help but momentarily hesitate. His heart urged him to care and protect his most beloveds, but his senses ceaselessly warned him of the possible consequences of a love so wretched. And he could feel it grow inside him, adoration immune against all resistance attempts. It burrowed ever so slowly into his soul, rooting deeply and out of control.

Few things were more confusing and torturous as the tug of war between desire to be near and urge to be far. Thorin watched in uncertainty as Kili grew before his eyes. He wanted to ensure that Kili would grow into a person befitting the word that marked their bodies. He wished to shower Kili with affection he wouldn’t get from his absent parent. But, he was scared of forgetting himself. He was terrified of even accidentally taking advantage of and ruining who he should protect. The sight of Kili crawling and wobbling toward him and grinning at him as if he hung the moon filled him with mixed emotions. The desire to reach out and hold and familiarize himself with Kili battled with the conscience that warned him against loving too much a relative so young.

Some nights, in the privacy of his locked room, Thorin looked at the word on his chest with a knife in his hand. He could, and perhaps should, strike the word out, deny the abnormal connection, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t because he was scared of pain. No, he was scared of losing the purposes that shaped him. Thorin was raised to replace his father, celebrating generations of history and making his family prosper. To deny himself and others that, meant losing his way. So, Thorin withdrew from his own home whenever he could, though the word remained on his chest a haunting reminder of a bright future tarnished by the whims of fate. It was a cure to his growing arrogance. There was no honor and only shame of having his heart and soul bound to his sister’s son.

* * *

No one ever mentioned the bond between them. No one pushed them together. It was unspoken that only they would decide what was to happen. Thorin was careful to keep his distance while still caring for the children. Regardless of everything, he still had affection for them, although he didn’t want to examine too closely the nature of his love for Kili. Thrain, Almaiz, Frerin and Dis never interfered and only observed from afar as he hesitantly interacted with the child. Sometimes Thorin wished they would do something. Other times, he was resigned to fate’s designs.

Someone must have told Kili. Perhaps it was Frerin, a believer of honest expressions–troubling details and consequences be damned. Or maybe it was Fili, who was already aware of the meaning of the word on his wrist and who had stolen a look of the word Thorin now hid. One day, Kili climbed onto his lap, put his small hand upon his chest, right above his heart, right where the word that bound them was located. Thorin watched Kili warily while his hand hovered awkwardly behind the boy’s back, torn between the urge to keep him safe and the reluctance to touch. There was uncommon intensity in the dark eyes, a world of thoughts and emotions that Thorin couldn’t bring himself to pry. His fingers twitched when Kili rested his head where his hand was and announced.

“Mine.”

* * *

Thorin watched Kili grow in between extensive travels and endless works. He kept coming back to a child who aimed to grow into someone he loved and approved. He was well-aware of how closely he was watched, how eagerly Kili tried to impress. The weight of his attention was heavy—Thorin was constantly aware of Kili’s watchful eyes. He lost his temper sometimes, harshly reprimanding the rambunctious child for small slights (Kili’s dejected face cut him deeper than he dared to inflict on himself with a knife.) He was a famously cantankerous man, even to one so young and so well-intentioned. He didn’t know why, but Kili always forgave, always tried even harder to please. Thorin sometimes wished he were more hateful and cruel, for it was frightfully difficult to guard his heart against something so good and gentle.

* * *

“Well done, Kili,” Thorin complimented him sincerely when Kili presented him with the result of his study.

“Thank you!” Kili replied, grinning. “So you’re happy with it? If you’re not, I’ll study harder! I know I didn’t do very well on some subjects.”

Thorin became apprehensive, uncomfortable with the thought that Kili revolved himself around what _he_ wanted. Already their lives were invariably (and sickeningly) entwined. There was no need to put Kili under his thumb. “I’m happy that you’ve worked hard for this.”

“But are you happy?” Kili insisted. “Am I good enough for you?”

There was no right answer Thorin could offer. Whether he pushed Kili away or draw him in, there would only be pain. But there was innocent hope in Kili’s face, along with affection Thorin wasn’t sure he deserved. He never asked for it, but into his hands Kili had submitted his heart (for him to love, for him to break.) (Thorin would hurt himself before he hurt it.)

“I’m happy when you’re happy.”

It didn’t answer Kili’s questions, but it was enough for the moment. When Thorin received a pleased smile that he tentatively returned, a small voice in his head wondered: Was Thorin good enough for him?

* * *

Teenage years brought changes and necessitating certain lessons to be taught. Fili courageously volunteered to teach, armed with a handful of books, a tablet, and pamphlets that Thorin doubted Kili would spare a glance at. Dis bit her lip, uncertain how to act, while Frerin was surer of himself when he invited Thorin to a brief escape.

Far from home, from the teen born to his sister for him, Thorin was free to do as he pleased, to act on the desires he had always denied. There were more than a handful who looked at him with interest and a few who he spent time with. But, while Frerin easily took to his bed whoever he fancied, Thorin couldn’t allow himself more than passing curiosity. There was no bond, no promise made (except for that small word: ‘Mine.’) Yet, taking someone to his bed when he was in full knowledge of who he was meant to be with, felt like a violation. He fought to deny and tried to forget, but something unnamed inside him kept returning to who he belonged with.

He returned home slightly less weary, a lot more resigned. At the door, he was greeted by a wide smile and an intense gaze–joy, curiosity, hunger, desire. Thorin felt a thrill ran down his spine.

* * *

Kili wasn’t shy from showing what and _who_ he wanted. He caressed and touched whenever opportunity allowed, even when someone watched. He approached Thorin under the pretext of seeking lessons or guidance. He showed his achievements and beamed at each of Thorin’s compliments. It was as flattering as it was disconcerting. Indeed, there were nights tempting thoughts of Kili infiltrated his well-guarded mind, but Thorin was always mindful of their relation and the whimsicality of juvenile infatuation.

He kept a safe distance between them with painful words and gestures, laden with exhaustion born from endless expectations and responsibilities. (Honor, his reflection reminded him daily. Shame, his conscience warned him whenever he saw Kili.) Kili shrank back sometimes, stung and cut and hurt, but always he returned bearing smiles and gifts, offers to alleviate his burden even just a little bit. He was never gone too long, never too discouraged to truly abandoned Thorin, even though Thorin offered little in return. Kind words and gentle pats on his shoulder were all the rewards Kili ever wanted. Warm smiles and admiring gazes were enough to keep away Thorin’s troubles for a while. There was no doubt of Kili’s devotion and how, despite Thorin’s attempt at indifference, Kili often managed to give Thorin contentment. Sometimes, when Thorin let his mind wandered, he almost believed there was a chance for them to be together without getting hurt.

* * *

Summer was a time for lovers, whether those who flaunt their connections or those who search who searched for the ones who shared their words with them. Thorin had covered his word for over a decade, even in the hottest days it remained hidden. His family never judged, but he knew there were plenty who would disapprove when they found his young nephew had the same word on his skin. Never mind that it was beyond their control, never mind that Thorin abhorred such shameful bond. They only saw the taboo–the thoughts and feelings of the people involved were only minor details in the background. It irritated Thorin and worried him, because Kili exhibited his word to the world freely and beamed at oblivious compliments and unknowing predictions. Thorin knew how to fight back and where to turn to for understanding and support, but Kili was too trusting of the world and too mindful of what people thought.

Thorin pulled Kili aside one hot summer day after he removed his shirts for a cooling swim in the sea. Perhaps it was the sun, because Kili’s arm was hot under his palm. There was unbridled joy in the boy’s face as it dawned on Thorin that it was the first time he touched him since he was just a child. Thorin lightened his hold but couldn’t move his hand, though his eyes never strayed anywhere below Kili’s expectant expression.

“Be careful. Not everyone will understand,” he cautioned.

Kili shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“You _should_ care.”

“You’re hiding it. How could anyone know?” Kili pointed out.

“I didn’t always hide it, and if someone remembers it…”

“I’ll ask them how it looks since you never let me see.” Kili interrupted, foolishly and courageously.

“Kili,” Thorin reproached him.

Kili looked at him for a long moment, then pulled away, laughing. He threw one coy look over his shoulder and, unexpectedly, Thorin’s desire stirred. But, although fate had set for him a twisted path, Thorin took control of any aspect that he could in his life. It wasn’t too difficult to stand back and find other distracting objects of interest (though his palm still tingled with a ghost of a touch from which he had been long denied.) He was not an animal; he was a human and he would behave as such. Still, when Kili laughed and played, damp golden skin gleaming under the sun, Thorin looked.

* * *

Love was a questionable thing when one was born with a word that bound them to another. Who could really say that love grew naturally? How did one prove that it wasn’t merely a result of self-fulfilling prophecy? When one was taught all their life that they were meant to be for someone who would perfectly complement them, how could they be sure that any affection they felt for that person wasn’t just a result of a life-long lesson?

Thorin was careful when he tried to define his feelings. He adored Kili, but who wouldn’t feel the same for such a loving person? He wanted to protect him, but who could resist protectiveness when dealing with someone easily drawn to troubles? He wanted to make him happy, but wasn’t the sentiment common among family and friends? He cared for him, but what else was he expected to feel for someone who was always near? He liked his company, but how could he hate someone who never failed to make him happy?

Almaiz sat down beside him while he read a newspaper while listening to Kili excitedly smashing buttons to kill virtual monsters while Frerin and Fili cheered. His mind was numb, his body tired from keeping his old company afloat in this ever-changing unfriendly world, but Kili’s easygoing nature and endless enthusiasm gave him again the strength to hope. Thorin raised his eyebrow at her, not wanting to ruin the peace Kili somehow inspired.

Almaiz smiled and said, “You know you’re never more content than when you’re with him.”

Eye wide, Thorin looked at Kili as if for the first time—his shining eyes, his bright smile, his warm gaze when he noticed Thorin was looking. He still felt that familiar old dread, but it was muffled by a new enveloping warmth. There was a throb deep in his chest, longing and endlessly deep affection, an urge to surrender his all, an aching hope to receive from Kili just a small portion of what Thorin felt for him. He didn’t know when it happened, but he had lost the fight he had fought all his life. Somehow without him knowing he had fallen and he knew there was no going back for him.

* * *

The knowledge that no one would fully blame him for not being able to deny their connection offered little assurance. There were always people who were all too happy to judge and Thorin couldn’t let Kili face them when he could still escape that fate. Thorin couldn’t bind him. Not while there was still time for him to change his mind.

He could wait and give himself a little time to enjoy the love newly found, but he was scared growing too attached, he was scared of allowing his heart a chance to keep Kili away from the peace he couldn’t give. It was all too easy to arrange for the best education for Kili far from home, far from Thorin. It was far harder to face the look of betrayal on his face as he strode into Thorin’s office.

“Why are you sending me away?” Kili demanded.

“Because you should see the world,” Thorin replied.

“But Fili gets to stay! Doesn’t he also need to see the world?”

“I need to prepare him to succeed me in the future.”

Kili glared, unknowing of how his anger tore Thorin apart. “Do you want to get me away from you?”

There were many things Thorin wanted from Kili–his love, his happiness, his devotion–but not that. Never that. “I want you to be who you’re meant to be, not who I want you to be,” he said.

Like his mother, Kili didn’t cry even as one of the foundations of his life collapsed. He turned away, anguish radiating from him in waves. “I know exactly who I want to be. You just don’t want to accept it.”

The truth stung, but there was no changing Thorin’s mind and they parted all too soon. Neither of them cried, but there was no hiding the pain in their eyes.

* * *

There was a girl in Kili’s life, who was soon followed by a parade of lovers. Thorin studied their smiling pictures on Kili’s social media. They were all young and beautiful, looking anything but out of place at Kili’s side. Meanwhile, he would soon be twice Kili’s age. Even worse, his increasing responsibilities as Thrain and the company’s health deteriorated left jagged marks on his personality, his body and his face. The youths were awful reminders of what he was not, had been, would never be, and should’ve been for Kili. Even in his most desperate hours, Thorin couldn’t see how he could be well-suited to be Kili’s lover. It was further proof that by sending Kili away Thorin had made the right decision, regardless of how his lonesome yearning stung. He only had himself to blame for his jealousy, so he swallowed the pain, pretended there was nothing wrong when he felt he was half a man living far from his most loved one.

If there was consolation, a hope that kept him going (yet threatened to break him into unsalvageable pieces,) it was the fact that Kili displayed his word with pride. Bare-chested he smiled from glaring screen, the word ‘honor’ promised that there was still a place for Thorin in his life should he decide to take the chance. Thorin wanted it–oh, how he craved it–but he couldn’t do take the risk. Instead, he kept to himself, waiting without waiting, with only the shadow of a lover he never had, comforting him.

* * *

Their reunions, though short, were always bittersweet. Layers of longing and betrayal nearly suffocated Thorin. There was itching under his skin to hold, to touch, to love. But he resisted the urges and distracted himself with mounting workloads. He reminded himself that there were girlfriends and boyfriends–though Kili hadn’t introduced his family to anyone. Surely, he would eventually realize that others were better than Thorin if he was given some time. Thorin tried not to think of what would happen if Kili never did find anyone. The secret love he harbored hurt enough. He didn’t need pointless hope to top it off.

Kili no longer followed him around like he did when he was a child, but he watched, even when he seemed otherwise occupied. Thorin could feel his gaze, could sense the wait. Kili was always ready to follow the path of destiny–it was Thorin who insisted to resist. But, it was for Kili’s own good, even if it felt like it would rip Thorin’s heart out. They separated over and over again, each parting more painful than the previous one. Thorin turned away over and over again, ignoring Kili’s hopefully offered hand.

* * *

Thrain’s death was sudden but not completely unexpected, happening in the worst situation their family business had ever been in yet. Thorin struggled to maintain his composure while providing support for his grieving family and leading a dwindling company. He was tired, frustrated, confused, overwhelmed. All his life he had practiced for this role, but now that he played it, he doubted that he could produce the expected honor. He was too flawed, too limited. When even his best wasn’t sufficient, Thorin was left to wonder if there was a mistake and he was born to disappoint.

Kili returned for the funeral with a pretty redhead in tow. He didn’t introduce her, everyone was too aggrieved to ask about her. However, Thorin noticed and though he thought it was impossible, he felt his heart break a little more.

* * *

Thorin tried, he really did. He spent all his waking hours rebuilding glory, strengthening cracked foundations. Frerin, Dis, and Fili gave their assistance and worked alongside him. However, it was just never quite enough. Something always failed, something always went wrong. Everything he touched turned into dust and he always returned empty handed to square one. It was frustrating and discouraging. Why was it never enough? Why were his efforts never good enough? He had done everything he could think of and taken any sensible suggestion he could get. Still the business continued to deteriorate. Still, everyone was disappointed.

They never said one bad word about him, but Thorin was growing ever more resigned that it was only a matter of time. Every failed negotiation and every missed achievement were reminders of how he couldn’t measure up to people’s expectations. He was born for greatness, people had believed. He was born for success, they had said. Yet now every day he sat in his father’s office, formulating plans after plans that would inevitably prove fruitless. They said to be proud of determination, but how could he be proud when everything around him come to ruins?

Thorin was often alone, but rarely lonely. There were always family and friends, always someone to keep him company. But, now the nights felt too long and cold, his arms too empty and his mind too exhausted. He wanted to, for a while, stop being strong and let someone did it for him. He wanted to be held and told that everything would be all right. He wanted to be near Kili, even for a second, to remember what it meant to be hopeful and happy. But, Kili was too far and Thorin’s place had been taken by someone better. There were only memories and digital smiles left. Lonesome and fatigued, Thorin could no longer convince himself that they were all he needed.

* * *

They never talked when they were apart. There were messages passed through others, but they never personally exchanged any word. However, lately Thorin found himself looking at the blank space on his phone, his fingers poised above the virtual keyboard but never daring to touch. Kili’s smiling picture was a beacon he didn’t dare approach. He was not wanted. He had pushed Kili away and he had been replaced. He had hurt and now he was paying the price.

Thorin put away his phone to return to the cold silence he had selected, but stress and distance had made him forget. Whatever his mistakes, Kili was always quick to forgave, even when Thorin could find nothing redeemable within himself.

“Do you want me to come home?”

The message took Thorin by surprise. His heart answered with a quick and desperate “please” but the words he typed back were “there’s no need.” Kili typed something back, but it was never sent. Thorin wished he had come up with an argument.

* * *

It had only been months, but it felt like decades had passed. There were new grey strands in his hair, deep lines on his face. There was a haunted look he didn’t recognize when he looked at himself in the mirror. His voice lost its strength and so did his body, doubt and fear radiating from his core. He found himself often with his mind both blank and full of voices of desperation. How much longer would he have people’s confidence and cooperation when he kept letting them down? How much longer until he was all alone? How much strength did he have left until he stopped trying, broken?

Only deeply ingrained sense of responsibility kept Thorin from giving up when every day the word on his chest mocked his plight. Where was the honor in failure? What kind of honor could be brought by disappointment? Too many of his plans fell apart. Those that worked only offered small hopes that would inevitably break. Thorin wouldn’t and couldn’t stop trying, but he was aware that his limit was fast approaching. He was only human and he was too tired and broken. He wanted to rest. He wanted something to for once go right.

He came home one late night to yet another fruitless effort. Kili had abandoned the escape Thorin had given him and came home. When and how, he didn’t know. This called for angry reprimand, but Thorin could only exhaled a breath he had long held in his lungs. A hope was sparked in his chest, a dangerous thing as he had learned of late, but he couldn’t help it when Kili calmly approached.

“Let me help you.”

This time Thorin couldn’t refuse. “Yes.” He had run out of lies.

* * *

Without Thorin noticing, Kili had built a network of allies and friends and collected an impressive amount of favors owed to him. He pulled strings stealthily, moving people about with seemingly guileless smiles. He suggested and commanded. When he decided to join negotiations, the tide finally turned and results finally favored them. He shrugged when underestimated and used the error to his benefits, surprising rivals and associates. People knew to respect Thorin, listen to Frerin, carefully watch Dis, and admire Fili, but no one was really sure what to do with the whimsical force of Kili. One by one, things were put to right. Little by little, they regained what Thorin had feared was forever lost.

Kili could claim the victory all to himself, but arrogance wasn’t in his nature. He shared everything with his uncles, mother, and brother. There was no trick he knew that they hadn’t been aware of, but they marveled how he kept little ways to win and defeat people cleverly catalogued. There was ruthless efficiency in his method, a previously unknown desire to come out on top. Even though he was kind and understanding, he harbored capacity to crush those hindering his aims. It was easy to slight him because of his age or how his education abruptly ended, however it was a mistake to see him as anything but their equal–yes, as good and yet as terrible as them all. Thorin had always seen and treated him like he was pure and innocent. He saw now that he was thoroughly and delightfully wrong.

The first time Kili walked as his equal on his side, Thorin couldn’t deny how it felt right. There was no curbing his jealousy when eager parents at the party offered to introduce their children to Kili. His relief was startlingly stark when Kili laughingly professed his lack of interest. As the night grew late, calling him his nephew felt increasingly wrong. This was my love! Thorin wanted to say. This was for whom I was born! Look how well he lived up to our word! See how he brought our family prosperity and respect when I could not!

Thorin waited with dread and excitement for Kili to throw caution to the wind–who cared what it might do to their company or what people would think. But, he behaved perfectly, with maturity and diplomacy Thorin had never seen. Sense and maturity were what Thorin always demanded, so he wasn’t sure what to do with the disappointment he felt. There was a swell of pride in his chest, accompanied by a pang of regret. He saw now that the scorn and shaming they might receive was well-worth the romance and companionship they could keep. Perhaps it was now too late to ask for the gift of Kili’s heart. Had he realized this sooner, had he given Kili a chance, he could’ve spared both of them decades of doubts and distress. Thorin thought of giving up—after all it was his fault—but it wasn’t in his nature to surrender without a fight. He would make one last try to offer himself, flaws and all. He had wasted many years; he wouldn’t let go of what might be his last chance.

* * *

Kili was uncharacteristically silent when Thorin revealed to him the word he had, for all Kili’s life, hidden. He looked at the old mark with wonder and amazement, as if he didn’t have its twin on his person. He lifted his hand toward the word when Thorin was within reach, but stopped himself just before he managed the barest brush of a touch.

“I know how wrong we are, how wrong _I_ am for you. But, I need you to know I still would have no one beside you.” Kili’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet and timid, a lingering effects of years of being rejected. Guilt flooded into Thorin, along with joy and relief. He vowed that never again would he be the cause of Kili’s unhappiness. 

Thorin took Kili’s hand and brought it to his chest to put it over their word, the mark of love he wouldn’t ever hide anymore from the world. “I’ve rejected you before, but I won’t anymore. If you would forgive and still have me, it would be my honor to be yours.”

Kili laughed weakly and muttered something about theatrics, but the words were soon lost in a kiss. It was a sweeter than dreams, better than fantasies. This was, after many years of denial and yearning, a reality.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't tried this kind of format in many, many years. It's really exhausting, lol. Anyway, it’s my third fic which has the word "honor" in the title. I probably should write something titled Loyalty or Willing Heart. And as usual when it comes to soulmates I have to add that people have choices. The concept has interesting potentials, but I’m still not a fan of how definite it’s portrayed.
> 
> Interesting thought I had just now: Assuming that the word corresponds to the person's native tongue, what happens the soulmates are from different cultures which speak different languages? Will they have the same word but in different languages or will the language be decided in random? Also, I feel bad for those who have super long words somewhere on their bodies.
> 
> Feel free to say hi to me on [my tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/).


End file.
